


A Silent Love

by whitewolfandthefox



Series: Geraskier One Shots [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Death curse, F/M, Found Family, M/M, Pining, Unrequited Love, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23705026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitewolfandthefox/pseuds/whitewolfandthefox
Summary: Jaskier has been cursed to fade unless he speaks his most precious secret. That’s an easy fix, except for the fact that he’s sworn not to come in between Geralt and Yennefer.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Geraskier One Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707202
Comments: 23
Kudos: 266





	A Silent Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Luka z Rivii (wayward_dream)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_dream/gifts).



It had been so easy at first, to ignore his feelings. When they were on the road and it was just the two of them, Jaskier could pretend that Geralt’s gruff manner towards him was the way he treated everyone. That changed when Ciri joined them. The Witcher’s manner softened whenever he was around his Child Surprise, Jaskier could see it in his eyes. His face would go gentle and his shoulders drop, Geralt didn’t hold himself as rigid around the child.

It got worse when Yennefer started travelling with them as well. Geralt seemed so _happy_. Jaskier didn’t think he’d ever seen the man laugh. Chuckle sure, but an outright belly laugh? He had been shocked the first time Yennefer had caught him off guard. His face had split into a wide grin, eyes crinkling as he clutched at his chest, other arm pulling Ciri in closer, throwing his head back as a loud laugh burst from his lips. Yennefer had looked delighted, eyes lighting up as she grinned at the two other members of her family, Ciri giggling as she nuzzled into her papa.

Jaskier felt his heart sink as he watched the small family of three interact, never having felt so much like an outsider as he did now. He managed a small smile as Geralt glanced his way, trying not to show how much he was hurting as his heart split in two. He would never say anything, no, Geralt was happy and that was enough for Jaskier. He would continue travelling with them, telling Geralt’s stories, but he would stay in the shadows of the family. He would never dare to impose on them, to force his way into somewhere he obviously wasn’t wanted.

It had been months since Yennefer and Ciri had joined the pair, and every day it got a little bit harder to get up. He thought Yennefer had noticed, he had spotted the sad looks she sent his way, but she never said anything. She wasn’t unkind to him, no, he never felt unwelcome but he still felt like he was imposing on the group. Ciri seemed to like him well enough, always asking him questions and requesting songs, but at night it was Yenenfer she curled up with, if Geralt wasn’t there, it was Yennefer who she went to for comfort.

Some days he thought about leaving. He was well enough known that he could make an easy living for himself amongst the courts, playing for royalty. He had been asked to be a court bard enough times, the gods knew he would have been fine. But he didn’t want to leave Geralt. Every time he thought about not seeing the man’s face when he awoke, his heart would clench and he would immediately reject the idea.

For the most part, Jaskier was happy. He had accepted he would never have his love returned, he was happy to travel with the family and to be able to see the world. He would never have been able to see the things he had, had he stayed as a viscount or as a professor at Oxenfurt. And he would never have met the people he did. Ciri was a wonderful child, an absolute delight to be around. He was slowly getting under Yennefer’s skin, she had started joining him for his cup of tea in the mornings. And Geralt. He loved that man with every fiber of his being and wouldn’t change a thing about their relationship. He was able to spend his days romping through the wilderness with the big gruff Witcher in tow. He knew Geralt cared, just not in the way that Jaskier wanted him to. 

But he was content with that.

The days passed, Jaskier spending his time composing as Geralt taught Ciri swordplay and Yennefer wandered in and out. The days were peaceful. Their little group was happy.

_Until he gets cursed, and starts fading._

They laugh it off at first, thinking the old woman was mad, just chanting off little rhymes.

_Forgotten you will be_

_Doomed to fade_

_Should you not confess_

_That which you hold dear_

Jaskier doesn’t feel any different and they promptly forget about it. One day, Ciri comes racing for him and he opens his arms to catch her. As she rams into him, he loses his balance, going straight over backwards as her weight takes them both to the ground. He lays there stunned, Ciri has never been able to knock him over before. As he regains his feet and slings his arm over her shoulders, he chalks it up to the fact that she’s been growing. 

He starts to get suspicious when Geralt hauls him to his feet and he is launched past the man. Geralt stares at him in surprise, Jaskier laughing nervously. Geralt frowned at him, muttering “You’re lighter,” before moving past him.

They stop at an inn one night, Jaskier and Ciri sharing a room while Yennefer and Geralt share another. While washing his face, the bard catches sight of himself in the mirror. He pauses, as he stares at his face. He looks paler. Raising a hand, he freezes in horror as he realizes he can see through his fingertips. He stays in front of the mirror, staring at his hands as he thinks about the times that he was knocked over or when someone pulled too hard. He thinks back to the rhyme curse, _You are doomed to fade_. Was this happening?

Someone knocks on the door. “Jaskier?” Geralt’s voice calls. “Are you coming down for dinner?”

When he doesn’t respond, Geralt knocks again before the door opens. “Jaskier?”

He sees the bard staring at his hands, immediately striding over to grip his smaller hands between his own. He stares at them, running his fingertips over the pale skin before looking up at Jaskier, face expressionless. But Jaskier knew, he could see the worry in Geralt’s eyes. He gently pulled his hands out the man’s grip. “It’s okay, Geralt. It’ll be ok,” he whispered.

“The curse,” Geralt manages to get out, frozen in place. Suddenly he turns and leaves the room, leaving Jaskier to sag against the wall behind him. The bard drew a hand over his face, sighing as he looked back down to his fingers. He knew what he had to do to break the curse, but he can’t, _he won’t_. He won’t do that to Geralt.

As he moves to the bedroom, he grabs his notebook before sitting on the bed, opening it to scribble down notes.

_That which you love / forever hold dear / keep it a secret / so no one can hear_

He looks up again as Geralt comes back into the room, Yennefer in tow. He nudges her towards Jaskier, gesturing at his hands. Jaskier gently closes his book and puts it to the side, placing his hands in his lap as Yennefer rolls her eyes at the Witcher before coming to sit next to the bard. She sounds annoyed when she speaks. “Geralt says you’re turning invisible, what happened? Did you spill something on yourself?”

He wordlessly offers her his hands, ignoring the sharp look that she sends him. “No words? It's not often I find you speechless, bard.”

She goes to take his hands, recoiling when she touches his skin. “What the fuck?”

Gingerly, she reaches out again, flinching slightly when she comes into contact with his fingers. She closes her eyes as she bends her head over him, mouthing silent incantations. Lifting her head, Jaskier sees the guilt in her eyes and knows that what he thought was true. Her mouth twists as if she bit into something sour as she whispers, “I’m sorry.”

Jaskier looks at her, a gentle smile on his face. “It’s okay, Yen. That’s what I thought.”

She refuses to look him in the eye as she recites the words spoken against him. “Forgotten you will be, doomed to fade, should you not confess, that which you hold dear. Your most precious secret, Jaskier. You must speak it aloud to reverse the spell.”

Jaskier merely nods but says nothing. Yennefer glances up at him and sees the resolve in his eyes. Surprising both of them, she pulls him in for a fierce hug, Jaskier pausing for a long moment before he wraps his arms around her sides, returning the embrace. She pulls back and searches his face, looking for something. Seeming to find it, she offers him a wan smile before standing, pausing to murmur something to Geralt as she passes him, closing the door behind her as she leaves the room.

Geralt stands in silence, staring at Jaskier as he refuses to look up at the Witcher. The larger man slowly moves toward the bed, sitting next to the bard. The silence stretches between them, seemingly endless before Geralt finally speaks. “Do you… know what it is?”

Jaskier barks out a humourless laugh. “Of course I do, dear Witcher. I have been carrying it with me for years.”

“So then just say it.”

“What?”

“Just say it. Get it over with, and break the curse.”

Jaskier shakes his head, playing with his fingers. _Have they gotten more see through as we’ve been sitting here? How fast is this going to go?_ “It’s not something I care to share with you, Geralt.”

“Then Yen or Ciri. Someone will listen to you.” Geralt is insistent, Jaskier can tell he won’t drop it. He can’t tell him though, he won’t ruin the family that Geralt has found for himself. And he won’t ruin their friendship. Better to fade with dignity than to be turned out in shame. 

“I won’t speak it, Geralt, not to anyone.” At his words, Geralt bursts from the bed, pacing in front of Jaskier as the bard continues staring at the floor. And what a nice floor it is, such a nice whorl pattern in the wood. He glances up as Geralt stills to see the man staring at him with those golden eyes he has come to love, defiance and worry mixed in them. The years travelling with the man has taught Jaskier how to read his emotions, as hidden as he thinks he keeps them.

“I won’t think any less of you, whatever it is.” Geralt is staring at him with the intensity of the sun, Jaskier fears he will burn away under it, like the fog chased away at sunrise.

“I can’t… I can’t be so selfish and take away what happiness you’ve found for yourself.” Jaskier says this with a bitterness, hoping Geralt won’t hear it. He does though, a wounded look appearing on his face.

“Damn it, Jaskier, is this secret so damning that you’d give your life for it?” Geralt’s voice breaks at the end, and by the gods Jaskier wishes this wasn’t happening. Would he give his life if it meant Geralt could have his happiness in peace? He’s pretty sure he would, he’d like to think that he’s built a relationship with the man that would let him be happy with that outcome. As the thoughts come into his head, he realizes that yes, he would die for Geralt’s happiness. He offers the man a sad smile as one of his shoulders lifts in a shrug before dropping, demonstrating his answer to Geralt’s question. The Witcher growls low in his throat before spinning on his heel and stalking out of the room. 

  
Jaskier’s face drops as Geralt leaves, flinching when the door slams behind him. The sorrow that he’s kept at bay overwhelms him, tears running down his cheeks as he turns his face into the pillow and breaks down into sobs.

**~*~*~*~**

Time passes, and as each day goes by, Jaskier fades a little bit. At first Ciri doesn’t notice, but when she realizes she can see through Jaskier’s hands as he plays his lute for her, she starts demanding answers. Yennefer just offers him a sad smile as the young girl breaks down in tears as Jaskier tries to explain what’s happening. The next few days are spent with her pestering Jaskier to tell her his secret, trying to guess what it was so he didn’t have to say it. She finally gives up after Geralt takes her to the side for a while, coming back with red, puffy eyes. She latches onto Jaskier and buries her face into his chest, sobbing into his clothes as he rocks her in his arms. He almost breaks that day, wanting to stay with the young girl, but then thinks of how he might rip this family apart, and it stays in his heart.

The curse is really driven home when Jaskier goes to pick up a pot and it slips out of his fingers. He frowns down at the metal before leaning forwards to pick it up, hand passing through it as he goes to grab it. He freezes at this, voice catching in his throat at the motion. Slowly, he raises his head to see Geralt staring at him, fear evident on his face. The Witcher looks at him a moment longer, Jaskier pinned beneath his golden gaze until Geralt looks away as he strides over, picking up the pot himself before depositing it on the fire. The bard can feel the man’s gaze on him for the rest of the night, having retreated to the edge of the camp so he wouldn’t be in the way and wouldn’t be asked to help. Geralt stops giving Jaskier tasks to do after that. 

Ciri breaks down the day she can no longer hug Jaskier, arms passing through him as she goes to lean into his side. Yennefer takes her to the side to comfort her as Geralt argues with Jaskier again, not quite begging for him to voice his secret, storming off when the bard refuses to, yet again. The argument lingers in the air, but Jaskier can’t do that to the man he loves. He won’t get in the way of his happiness. 

As he fades, so does his voice. Close to the end, Jaskier is so faded you can barely see his outline and he’s barely louder than the wind whistling through blades of grass. He still trails after them, but doesn’t often interact with the trio. He’s more like a guardian angel at this point, or maybe a wandering spirit. Geralt still knows where he is though, his eyes often lingering on the spot where Jaskier has settled once they are done travelling for the day. He’s stopped asking Jaskier for his secret, seeming to have resigned himself to the fact that he will lose his friend. 

Ciri is sad, she spends her nights playing the simple tunes Jaskier taught her while he still could. He wanted Ciri to keep it, to have something to remember him by. He had given Yennefer his book of completed songs, she pretended not to care but he had found her looking through it one evening when she thought he was on the other side of camp. He gave nothing to Geralt, only because he had nothing significant to give.

One day Jaskier wakes up and feels like he could float into the sky. _This is the day_ , he thinks, _this is the day I die_. He’s sad, but that’s okay. Ciri and Yennefer haven’t been able to see him the last few days, relying on Geralt to translate the few snippets that he’s been able to catch. He lays in the grass for a while, hearing the sounds of camp being packed up around them. That was the nice thing about fading, he no longer got hungry or dirty, there wasn’t much left of him to be able to. As the group gets ready to leave, Geralt pauses and looks around for him. Jaskier can tell he can’t see him when his eyes sweep over the small hill he is sitting on. 

“Jaskier?” Geralt’s voice is tentative, almost as if he was asking the bard if he was playing a joke on him. When he sees no movement, his shoulders droop. Yennefer passes him, laying a hand on his shoulder before she directs Ciri to help saddle Roach. The two of them pause to look at him once they are ready, Geralt glancing up at the silence that has fallen over the small clearing. He manages a tight smile.

“Go on ahead, I’ll catch up.” Yennefer gives him a small nod as Ciri’s face falls, the older woman ushering her out ahead of him. Jaskier slowly stands, trailing down the hill as he follows Geralt to the logs they had used as seats the night before. 

_I’m sorry_ , Jaskier tries to say, though no sound comes out. He wants to say goodbye, to say that he doesn’t regret doing this, all he ever wanted was for Geralt to be happy. He pretends not to see the defeated look on the Witcher’s face, choosing to press a soft kiss against the man’s lips, allowing himself that one guilty pleasure before he goes. Geralt’s hand comes up to touch his lips, feeling as though a cold breeze had swept across his face. 

He sits up straighter, a question coming into his voice. “Jaskier? I think you’re here, I can sense… something. Please… don’t go. I can’t,” his voice breaks, “I can’t lose another friend.”

Jaskier’s heart breaks at this, hearing the misery in his voice. He slides to his knees in front of Geralt, wrapping his arms around the bigger man’s middle. 

_I don’t want to go, but it’s for the best, Geralt. I can’t come between you and Yennefer, you love each other and I can’t wreck that. Ciri is happy as well, she doesn’t need me. I’m so glad to have been able to call you my friend, even if I wanted more. You will be okay without me. I just want you to know that I love you. I always have and I always will, but I won’t regret doing this for you. You deserve all the happiness in the world, even if you think you don’t. I fought to my last breath to give you that, and I’m proud to know that’s what my last action will be._

He closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against Geralt’s chest. He could almost imagine the man returning the embrace, his strong arms wrapping around him as he pressed the smaller man against his chest. He felt a nose brush through his hair, a breath against his ear as a soft voice murmured, “Jaskier.”

With a start, he realized that he wasn’t imagining the embrace, he could actually _feel_ Geralt’s arms pulling him against his chest, pressing him into his body. A kiss was dropped against his forehead before Geralt buried his face into Jaskier’s hair, murmuring his name all the while. The bard clung desperately to the man, elated that he was whole again but terrified now that he had revealed his secret. He refused to look up, not wanting to see the rejection that is surely on the Witcher’s face. He feels Geralt pull back, feels the gentle hand under his chin lifting his face to see the man’s gentle, golden eyes. 

“Why didn’t you tell me, Jask?” The man’s voice was soft, insistent on pulling answers from the bard in his arms.

“I didn’t think- you wouldn’t- you had Ciri and, and Yen, I didn’t want to-” Geralt shushed him with a gentle finger against his lips. Jaskier couldn’t tear his gaze away from him, seeing the mirth in his eyes. Geralt hadn’t run yet, he didn’t understand. There was no revulsion in his gaze, Jaskier didn’t understand what was happening. He took a deep breath.

“I thought I would just be tearing you and Yen apart, getting in the way of your relationship with Ciri. I didn’t think you would even _want_ me-”

Jaskier was silenced as Geralt leaned down, pressing his lips gently against Jaskier’s, effectively silencing the babbling that was streaming out of the bard’s mouth. He drew back to find Jaskier utterly speechless, mouth open as he stared at the man in front of him. 

“I didn’t think you had returned my feelings, little one, otherwise I would have said something.”

Jaskier was flabbergasted. “But… Yennefer…?”

“Has a part of me, but not all of me, just the same as you. She and I spoke, she suspected something but we were both too stubborn to see it.” Geralt’s eyes were wary but hopeful as he watched Jaskier’s face. “Think you can learn to share?

The bard’s face split into a smile as he realized what Geralt was asking. “If it means I get to have you? Absolutely.”

Geralt answered with a hesitant smile, pulling Jaskier into his lap as he leaned down, again capturing the smaller man’s lips in a kiss as he wound his arms around the Witcher’s neck. The bard tried to put everything he was feeling into the kiss, the relief at being alive, the delight at the new development in their relationship. He drew back as he gasped for breath, leaning their foreheads together as Geralt pulled him against his chest, the two basking in their love for each other. 

“We should go tell the others what has happened,” Jaskier murmured even as his hands tightened around Geralt’s neck.

“In a moment,” Geralt offered the bard a sheepish smile. “I want just a little longer alone with you. Once Ciri sees you, she’ll be stuck to your side for days.”

“So long as I have you on my other one, I think I can manage.” Jaskier grinned up at his lover, content with his lot in life. “I think I can even manage to get along with Yen now, she’s not so bad.”

Geralt barked out a laugh, before a look of horror crossed his face. “Now there’s two- oh man, and I thought just Yen was bad. The two of you will be the death of me.”

“Don’t worry, dear heart. I’ll protect you from the big bad sorceress when she comes after you.” Jaskier squeaked as Geralt pulled him closer, forcing his breath out as he was squished against his chest. 

The man buried his nose in the bard’s hair again, his body shaking as he chuckled, “It’s not that I’m worried about, I’m thinking of all the trouble the two, no three, of you will get in once you have a plan in mind.”

Jaskier laughed with him, before standing and offering his hand. “We really should go tell the others, I want to see Yen’s face when she realizes what’s happened.”

“It will be gloating for sure, little bard, she told me there was something there.” Jaskier pouted at this, before grinning as Geralt took his hand.

“Well, let’s go- oomphf,” his sentence was cut off as the Witcher again pulled him into an embrace, pressing the bard tight against his chest. Jaskier reached up, entwining his hands in his hair to pull Geralt down for a kiss. He pulled back, grinning up at his love with a gentle look in his eyes. Geralt smiled gently back at him, brushing a hand against his cheek before releasing him as he reached down to grasp his hand. He hummed low in his throat as Jaskier squeezed his fingers, the Witcher tugging him along behind as the two of them went to rejoin their small party, happiness lifting their hearts.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come yell at me on tumblr @whitewolfandthefox or in the comments if you enjoyed this. See you next time!


End file.
